How I (Accidentally) Got Through 2,684 People to a Final Table -- Part I

There are few feelings worse in tournament poker than to play for many, many hours and earn little or no money. In this year's World Series of Poker, I played two long days to win only a little money in event No. 49 -- a $1,500 no-limit hold'em tournament in which I finished 30th out of the 2,713 entrants. To make matters worse, I busted out by taking three bad beats in succession with just four tables left. At that point, I'd pretty much had it with marathon days and monster fields. Instead, I looked forward to playing the limit hold'em shootout the next day. It's one of my favorite events of the Series, and one with a whole lot more downtime and many fewer players than a $1,500 no-limit event.

"Sign me up for tomorrow," I told the cashier on my way out the door.

I awoke the next morning and, for no particular reason, looked over the WSOP schedule. Oddly enough, the tournament listed for that day -- Monday, June 30 -- was not the limit hold'em shootout. I checked the registration ticket I'd purchased the night before, and indeed I had unintentionally registered for another $1,500 no-limit hold'em event. When I arrived at the Rio, there were 2,693 people in the field, all hoping to win a bracelet. Had I been paying attention the night before and double-checked the order of the events, I never would've entered this tournament, never would've dared to try to get through another massive pool of competitors. But since I'd already ponied up the money and found my seat, I put on my headphones and geared up for another potentially long day. Honestly, I would've been more than happy to get my chips into the middle early and get the whole thing over with.

In the first level, I picked up A-Q in the cutoff and raised a limper. The button called me, but the limper folded. The flop came queen high, and I bet 350. The button raised to 1,000. Very quickly, I moved all in for another 1,500. The button thought for a long time and eventually folded A-Q faceup. This guy was trying to keep me in!

A while later, I turned a straight in a blind-versus-blind confrontation, and despite my calling the flop, raising the turn, and moving in on the river, my opponent called me down with a pair of sixes. This guy was trying to keep me in!

A new player moved into the seat to my right, and he open-limped from the hijack position. I raised from the cutoff with Q-J, and only the limper called. The flop came 10 high, and we both checked. My opponent made a small bet on the turn, and I called. The river brought an ace, and my opponent made another small bet. I raised to three-and-a-half times his bet with queen high, putting in 75 percent of my stack in the process. My opponent folded without too much thought. That time, my opponent wasn't trying to keep me in -- he just didn't have anything. Still, that hand displayed my get-chips-or-go-broke attitude perfectly.

I got moved to a new table and found Chris "The Armenian Express" Grigorian sitting to my immediate right. It was quickly obvious that Chris is a great guy and a great player. The two of us didn't tangle much … until this hand. Everyone folded to Chris in the small blind, and he limped. I happily checked my option with Q-3 offsuit and we saw a flop of Q-8-8 with two diamonds. Chris checked, and I bet about 60 percent of the pot. Chris thought for a while and called. The turn brought a third 8. Chris checked, and I checked behind him. The river was a 9, and Chris moved all in for about twice the size of the pot! I tanked for a long time. If Chris also had a queen, I would earn half of the current pot in profit by calling the two-times-the-pot bet. If Chris was bluffing, I would earn a three-times-the-pot profit by calling. Of course, if Chris had an 8, I would lose about 40 percent of my stack. (I severely discounted the probability of Chris holding A-A, K-K, or 9-9.) I finally decided that Chris would be bluffing often enough, and would have a queen often enough, for me to show a profit by calling, so I called. Chris rolled over 8-6 offsuit for quads. I think if this hand had come up later in the tournament, after I'd logged more hands with Chris, I could've made a better read. As it was, I made a read with the information I had at the time, and it was a bad one.

I went to the dinner break kicking myself. Luckily, I got back from the dinner break and caught a few hands to win my chips back. Then, a new player came to the table and immediately raised to 1,800 from under the gun. I called from the cutoff with two red sevens. The flop came 10 high, all diamonds, and my opponent bet 1,800 into the 5,250 pot. I called with my pair and my 7-high flush draw. The turn paired the board, and this time my opponent bet 4,000 into the 8,850 pot. I called again. The river was a blank.

My opponent said, "There's enough money out there, I check," and picked his cards up off the table, getting ready to turn them over. I was sure that he had an overpair, but not so sure he would call a big bet with it.

"I bet 11,000," I said. My opponent lowered his cards back to the felt and studied the board.

Finally, he said, "OK, I'll believe you," and folded his two jacks (no diamond) faceup.

My big bluff propelled me into pretty good chip position. We hit the money and I finished day one with an above-average stack of 41,800. Just two days before, I had ended day one as one of the chip leaders with a stack size of 113,600, and I ended up finishing 30th. I was pleased to have chips again, but I had no illusions that I had an easy road to the final table with more than 200 players still to get through. I bagged my chips and headed home to sleep before my second day two in as many events.

Next column: day two.



Matt Matros is the author of The Making of a Poker Player, which is available online at www.CardPlayer.com. He is also a featured coach for stoxpoker.com.